Do you ever have that moment when you’re driving and you just have to keep driving because you have to escape your everyday boring routine?
Two days ago I came out of the cave that is my house to get groceries. Halfway from Cincinnati to Beechmont, at 1pm in the afternoon, I spontaneously decided to drive 2 hours to Columbus, OH again. I had no scheduled plan like CoSi. I have hardly any money left from all my previous spontaneous trips and fast food addiction, but I just knew Columbus had pretty parks, and I was going to go visit a fancy park.
What I forgot about driving from Cincinnati to Columbus is that the road is bland. First it was exciting; I gave a tribute to Markiplier passing Milford, OH by shouting at a Cow “A MOO-EE”. I sang Florence at the Machine songs. Then it was 90 miles of flat corn fields and farms.
A majority of what the side road looked like, via stormhighway.com
I barely managed to get there with Peter Gabriel sing a longs that kept me awake.
Since I have been attempting to like people again, I giggled at the name of “N. High Street” and decided to drive through to people watch. An Indian man was angry that he couldn’t cross the street with his dog. A scraggly man in a wheelchair crept along the stone streets, passing a pair of thugs with fanny packs. The shops obnoxiously stood out to culture adventure seekers–a Turkey clothing store on one corner, “The Hippy Hut” on the next. It only made me miss my beloved Ludlow Ave. in Cincinnati more.
Then I got a cheeseburger and caught a glimpse of the Park of Roses, flowers faded in the winter frost. I got home just before dark.
Not all travel expeditions will be thrilling.